


Broken Home

by Emmiliosis



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 06:37:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16080518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmiliosis/pseuds/Emmiliosis
Summary: Living a life that has experienced their parents divorcing twice, you learn not to drown. But sometimes,You choke on everything going on around you.





	Broken Home

Living a life that has experienced their parents divorcing twice, you learn not to drown. But sometimes,

You choke on everything going on around you.

You pretend your life isn't happening, because if you acknowledge it, it's like you throw yourself into voluntary madness. You can't feel anything, because if you do, the slightest acknowledgement that you aren't just going through the motions of life, it feels like too much.

And that's what happened that night. I let myself feel too much, and I snapped. I noticed an old picture of me on a friends Facebook page that I never talked to. I let myself read all the comments.

How I was unlovable because I never saw how a real relationship worked. How I was the reason the second divorce happened. Because if I wasn't a mental case, my stepfather wouldn't have cheated on my mom. How I was the reason that three of my siblings had to go through that nasty year with me. How my brother, who is always so quiet and docile, was so upset that he was throwing up for days because he thought my mom would leave too. That because I had been raped during my only relationship that I was damaged goods and that nobody would want me.

I threw my laptop across the room so hard it smashed on impact, leaving a dent so deep it made a hole through the drywall. I wanted to disappear completely, and I knew how to. Those pills I used to take for depression were still in the bathroom cabinet. I had nearly a month worth there, because I hated feeling numb all the time, even though it felt better than real life.

I turned the speakers up in my apartment, so nobody could hear me if I started crying while I left, or if I decided last minute not to do it and call out for help. I grabbed the pill bottle, along with some extra strength Advil and a bottle of vodka I had in the kitchen from the last time friends were over. I made my way over to the couch in the middle of the living room, completely at peace about what I was about to do.

I took a deep breath and started popping pills. I downed them all with large mouthfuls of alcohol, enjoying the burn that would be the last thing I felt.

I sat there, leaning back on the couch, almost slumped over as I felt the medications take over my system. I was finally calm, this was what I had needed for years now. As I felt my eyes close for the last time, I heard a familiar song come over the speakers. I felt myself tense as I tried to break through the medicated haze, but it was too late.

It felt like someone was pulling me forward into their arms to join them as I felt myself slip away.

All I could see was white as my eyes opened. They stung from the bright lights, and I felt my stomach flip as I resisted the urge to throw up. I clenched my eyes back shut and tried to take in the environment with touch. I felt restricted around my legs and was laying in a bed with my head slightly raised. Based on that, I guessed I was in a hospital. I turned to what my arms were feeling. I felt an IV taped to my right arm. I could tell that my hair was tied up at the top of my head, probably in a messy bun to keep it out of my face while I was out.

I tried opening my eyes again, and it was less painful. I looked around the room. There was a TV mounted on the wall, but it wasn't on. I could hear soft music coming from the window, and I slowly turned my head to find an iPod plugged into the wall, playing familiar music. It was soothing yet hurt my heart. It was by the same artist that made me second guess my actions. But it was also more than that. I couldn't think of that though.

I continued to scan the room, looking for anything else familiar. I saw an unfamiliar suitcase in the corner of the room, which spiked my curiosity. I saw the garbage beside the suitcase, full of McDonalds wrappers and Tim Hortons coffee cups. So someone has been here with me. I continue to scan the room until I came across a sight that almost made me jump enough to fall out of the bed.

Ashton was asleep in an armchair, curled in on himself, but with one hand lying on my bed. When I looked, it was really close to my own, almost like he fell asleep holding my hand.

I slowly moved my fingers, and when they didn't feel sore or in pain, I moved my hand to Ashton's. I slipped my fingers through his, lacing them together. I was mad, but at the same time, so grateful. I needed my best friend, more than he could understand, but at the same time, it was him who made me second guess my decisions.

I ran my thumb over the top of his hand, feeling the familiar warmth. As I did this, I watched his face. The face that normally had a never-ending smile plastered on it, even in sleep, was frowning, his eyebrows furrowed together, worry lines wrinkling his forehead.

"Y/N," he mumbled in his sleep, trying to burrow himself further into the chair. I quietly gasped, not sure how to react. I slowed my thumb. After a few minutes, Ashton moved again, this time waking himself up. He stretched, his hand never leaving mine, and sat up so he was hunched over in the chair, face turned towards the floor.

I smiled at how he was oblivious to my being awake. I started rubbing my thumb over his hand again, and he jumped, whipping his head towards me, mouth hanging open when he saw me watching him.

He stayed motionless for a few minutes before standing beside me, leaning over me to hug me, his face in my hair.

"Y/N, you are never allowed to do that again. I was so worried. I thought I lost you."

I started crying, leaning up to hug him back. Seeing the weird position I was in, Ashton wrapped his arms around my waist, moving me over in the bed slightly, enough to make room for him to lay beside me. He pulled me into his arms, my head resting on his chest. One of his hands wrapped around to keep my head in place, running his fingers through the few strands of hair that had fallen loose.

"Hey, hey, shh. You're okay. I promise, you're okay. Let it out."

He leaned down, and I felt his lips moving across my forehead as he quietly talked.

After what felt like hours, I finally felt the tears starting to slow. Ashton never let up his comforting actions. I wondered how I could have thought of leaving him behind.

"How did I end up here?"

Ashton's hand stilled in my hair, and I slowly moved my head, so I could watch his face.

"Devin found you. He was going to see you because he hadn't seen or heard from you in weeks. He saw you through the porch door. Thank God you lived on the first floor, or he wouldn't have found you in time. He induced vomiting while calling 911. When you got here, he called me."

"Ashton, you're in the middle of a world tour! I could have survived here without you"- I cut myself off, realizing how harsh that was.

He shrugged. "Maybe, but from what I've seen and heard, you needed someone. Doesn't matter that I haven't known you very long, or that we have different social circles, different lives. If anything is going on, I want to know! Nobody should go through what you just did! If you weren't here anymore, I don't... I don't know what I would have done! You mean so much to me, and the people who truly care about you, you have no idea what kind of impact you have on us. You are an incredible person, and I can't let you forget that."

I sighed, feeling the tears building up again.

It was true I hadn't known Ashton very long. It was a couple of years ago that we met, when he had a couple days off of tour and decided to go for a drive through the Canadian countryside. He found my hometown. When he got out to walk, his feet somehow led him to where I was. It had been a cold March day, but I had been sitting at the bandshell in the park, looking out over the beach and lake. It was my spot to go to write, to think, to just be. We had started talking, and by the end of it we were pretty good friends.

"I'm so sorry Ashton."

"Hey, hey, it's okay. You're okay." He pulled me closer to him, though I wasn't sure how that was possible.

We stayed like that as the time passed, more passing than what it felt like.

"I talked to your doctor. He doesn't think you should be on your own right now. So, I made a few calls. If you want to, you get to come on tour with us. I got it set so during interviews, someone will be with you, as well as shows, and whenever we aren't needed, I'll be with you, or Michael, Luke, or Calum. You mean so much to them too, they don't want to see you hurt." Ashton took a deep breath. "I know I can't make you promise to not do what you just did again. I've seen so many people go through what you have. But just know what you have options, you have a future, you have goals and achievements. No matter what, I want to help you through whatever you need help with."

I had frozen when I heard I was going on tour. I felt it was something I needed, to get away from everything that caused my hurt, to be around nothing but positivity from the guys. They were like my brothers, and I couldn't let an opportunity like this pass by.

"Yeah, I'll go. I'll be with you, what else can someone want or need?"

Ashton smiled down at me, pulling me in for a tight hug.

"You still have a few days here. They want you to do some counselling, and figure out some new meds to help regulate you. But as soon as we get the go ahead, we are going to yours, packing your bags, and flying out to NYC."


End file.
